Push
by Kat J
Summary: BradyChloe After Philip goes missing Chloe turns to the one man she knows can help. What happens when old flames still burn? RR please! Complete.
1. We meet again

Hey all, I started this so long ago and just forgot about it until I came across the disk it was on. I thought I would put it up and see if anyone was interested. I'm letting everyone know that I probably won't continue if there is no interest. I'm presently writing another long fic for a different show and if no one is going to be reading this, then I will just spend my time on the other one. I can't say how often updates will be if I continue. I just thought I should let everyone know all of this before you read it. 

I disclaim. I don't own a thing. 

  
  
  


His name was always on her lips when she dreamed. Soft, soft words when she mumbled and turned over, imagining it was his body pressed up against hers, his hands on her waist and his smell she breathed in. But it wasn't him. She'd ran away ten years ago and couldn't make up that time no matter how hard she tried. 

Chloe wasn't asleep. Even though her eyes were closed and her breathing even, she was still wide awake. She could feel the heat coming form her husband as he slumbered soundlessly. Figured. Typical man, could sleep through anything. While she was busy listening to noises she didn't want to know the origin of, he lay there like a baby.

She could always count sheep. Scrunching up her nose, she almost laughed. Almost. There it was again, that noise. It was coming from below them it seemed. The garage was below their bedroom and in the garage there was a door to the house. That door was unlocked, she realized with shock. She heard the click of the door quietly opening and immediately she sat up in bed.

"Hey, wake up!" Nudging her husband, Chloe stumbled in the dark to find some sort of weapon.

"W-what?" Rolling over, with eyes unfocused her husband struggled to see her in the dark. 

"Someone's breaking in!" 

"Don't be stupid," he laughed and then rolled over on his stomach, hugging Chloe's extra pillow to him.

"This is no time to sleep! There is someone down there and either you go see who it is or I'm calling the police." She was panicking now. She could hear someone head for the stairs. Large, chunky boots. A man.

This seemed to grab his attention and he was up and on his feet while Chloe was still searching for a weapon. In the drawer she found a book, some tissues and a pen. The pen would have to do unless she planned on reading the intruder to sleep or blowing his nose to death.

She moved behind her husband as they eased their way out of the bedroom and started down the hallway. He grabbed the autographed Babe Ruth baseball bat from the wall and held it protectively in front of him. Somehow he thought the Great Bambino wouldn't mind given the circumstances. "Stay behind me," he whispered over his shoulder to a petrified Chloe.

"Oh don't worry, I wasn't planning on being the one to save the day." She grabbed her gold pen tighter; felt safer holding it. Even though she knew in the end it wouldn't protect her, she liked to dilute herself to believing it could. As they reached the stairs Chloe saw the shadow come off the wall from the guest room. "Philip look out!" Chloe cried as the man punched him mercilessly in the stomach, then grabbed the bat. 

"Oh God!" she cried and tried to run, but by then he had a handful of her hair and he was pulling her towards him. "Don't touch me! Philip help me!" 

Philip was slumped on the ground grabbing his side and fighting for air. She didn't even see the blow that knocked her cold on her feet.   


_____

The wind ripped through the open window sending icy shivers down Chloe's spine. She took a puff from the cigarette she held between shaky fingers. The stars were out in full force littering the sky in punches of light. Taking the ransom note once again she read it over. Philip had really done it this time. How had she not known? He'd said he'd given up his habit; that he could quit at any time. But that wasn't the case when she found him syringe in hand, elastic band above his vein, pushing heroine straight into his system.

They had no money left from his trust fund that daddy dearest had set up after he was disowned. Debts mounted, bills stacked sky high, but he still had to fulfill his need for the drugs that had destroyed their marriage and now he was gone. Kidnapped. She almost wanted to laugh at the demands. Whoever had taken him hadn't done their research or they'd know they were in no position to pay.

The only money they had left was from Chloe's brief career on stage as an opera singer and that was locked up so tight Philip couldn't get his grubby little hands on it. For once she was thankful for listening to her mother -as overbearing and protective as she was. 

There was only one person that could help her now. Extinguishing the butt, she flicked it out the window and wirily drew the drapes closed. The phone mocked her when she picked it up; dialling a number she still knew by heart.

"You said if I ever needn't you to give you a call. Well, I need you now."

__

Brady paced the expanse of his living room; sipped the brandy that he'd warmed in his hands through the crystal glass and watched the door. He checked his watch again. The knock was unexpected. She was early. Chloe was never early for anything. Except when it came to her husband, Brady snarled viciously. Jerking open the door, he took her arm and pulled her in.

"Did I or did I not say midnight?" His eyes were blue flames of anger and Chloe shuddered under his gaze.

"I-I..."

"You're early." His grip loosened on her arm and she was grateful.

"I didn't see the harm."

"What if there were people here? Hmm? What if someone saw you?" Stepping away he put the expanse of the room between then, sipping his brandy casually as if they were talking about the weather.

Chloe absently rubbed her arm, looking everywhere but at him. "I guess I didn't think."

"Fine. Now what is it that you need. You sounded shook up on the phone. Am I to assume this has something to do with the bastard you call a husband?"

"If you're going to be a jerk, I might as well leave now. I don't know why I even came here, I'll go." She stalked to the door and was surprised when he reached out to grab her, this time his touch was gentle. Moving his hand to the small of her back, he guided her to the couch.

"Sit," he commanded in a rough, husky tone.

Chloe complied, crossing her legs and pulling her jean skirt over her kneecaps. "I... They left this."

Brady took the piece of notepaper from her trembling hands and threw it on the mini-bar. His back was turned towards her as he poured her a drink in the same type of flashy crystal glass. "Drink this. It'll calm your nerves."

"No, I-"

Rolling his eyes, he pressed the glass into her hand. "Take it."

"Thanks," she said meekly, taking a drink of the liquid; flinching when it burned her throat on the way down.

"You sounded upset on the phone. Tell me how it all started."

It had been a long time since she'd been to Brady's apartment but she found the walls whispering to her; heard the faint remnants of laughter from years ago. But now, as she looked around, she realized it was no longer that magical place. That somehow the place that had been a refuge for her, had turned dull and bitter and so had the man. No life resided here. It was all gone now, the laughter, the tears and maybe even the love. The laughs they had shared faded from her ears like every other memory. 

There was no humour in Brady either as he eyed her with a cold glare she recognized as malice. Or was it disgust? Either way, it was as unfunny as a three alarm blaze in the dead of winter. The atmosphere was as frigid as her skin would be standing outside watching the destruction of the fire. 

Brady was not a man that did things half way. So by calling him, she'd opened the floodgates to any sort of information. Her personal life was his to pick apart, and he would. Her marriage--the sham that it had become--would surely be one of the finer points of interest, she supposed. All would be exposed and they would sit there acting like polite company, or at least she would, while she divulged secrets and he took them in with an air of arrogance. 

"Philip lost his job. Then when his mother died-it was just so unexpected. He got depressed, like anyone would. -and before you say anything I'm not trying to make excuses for him. He tried to get back in his father's good graces, but Victor wouldn't have it. He started to stay out late and then he'd come home in the morning drunk. I ignored it for a while but-" Her eyes remained downcast unable to look at Brady as she told him what a failure her husband was.

"But," Brady pressured.

Taking a deep breath, she continued, "but then I was doing laundry and I found a needle. He said it was just to help him relax; that it was no big deal and that all the guys at the office used to shoot up and snort coke during their lunchbreaks."

Brady laughed bitterly, interrupting her train of thought.

"I told him I'd leave him. That I couldn't be married to a drug user. I thought he'd changed."

"But he hadn't?"

"No, it just got worse. Men would come to our house that I didn't know. Philip would sent me to our bedroom. Brady if I had known-"

His hand shot through the air and he waved away her comments. "Save it. You don't owe me anything."

"I do. I want you to understand. He was a good husband for a while, real loving and sweet and then things-well things just changed." 

Brady ran his long, lean fingers through his messy blonde locks and let out a frustrated sigh. "What were the demands?"

Her eyes welled with tears and she sniffled back a sob. "A million."

Brady's brows furrowed up in confusion. "What's the problem?" 

"I can't get it. Philip has no money left and what I've got, I can't get out. At least not without Nancy knowing."

Rubbing his hands together Brady stood, offering what seemed like a simple solution. "All you have to do is call up your mom, get her to the bank and the problem is solved."

"I wish it were that easy. No one can know. And even if we get them the money, who's to say they won't kill him anyway?" She wiped the tears from her eyes absently and combed her fingers through unkept hair.

"So you want my help." His jaw twitched. "Hypothetically now, say I help you... What do I get out of the whole deal?"

"Anything you want!" She surprised him by grabbing his hand.

Withdrawing from her grasp as if it burned him, he framed her face, washed his thumb down her jaw, catching a falling tear. "You love him that much?"

"He's my husband."

Brady sobered, pulled his hand away and dug it deep into the pocket of his faded jeans. "Right."

Chloe's eyes were huge when she stood and faced him. "Whatever it takes Brady, just get him back."

"Whatever it takes?" His eyes roamed her body, sweeping down the line of her jaw to the slope of her breasts, and then back up to her lips. She could feel it as if he'd touched her with his calloused hands and it made her shiver.

"Yes, anything.."

Brady's eyes were cold. "I will hold you to that."

"Where do we start?" Chloe's eyes softened. She wrapped her arms around herself and peered up at Brady.

"Go home, Chloe. Sleep on it."   
  
"Thank you, Brady. You don't have any idea how much this means to me." Chloe took a step forward and before he could stop her, she wrapped her arms around Brady's neck.

Instead of holding her and comforting her as he would have in the past, he roughly pushed her away. "I'm not a saint, don't ever put me up on a pedestal!"

"That's not what I'm doing to you. I'm just trying to thank you."  
  
"I'm doing this because it's my job; what you'll paid me to do, nothing more."

"I don't believe that."

"Believe what you want honey, as long as you pay me, you're free to have these silly little thoughts that will never ripen. I'm not who you want me to be, so stop trying to act like I'm someone I'm not."

"Has the world been that cruel, Brady? Are you really that unfeeling?" Chloe's hand automatically reached for his stubbled cheek, but his hand darted out and he grabbed a hold of her wrist, pulling her against him. The pressure was tight, bordering on painful and she wasn't sure if it was coming from her wrist or her heart. 

"Don't try to make yourself feel better sweetheart. I am who I am. You know I lost everything when-" His eyes softened, his grip relaxed. "It doesn't matter now. What's done is done."  
  
"Goodnight Brady." Chloe whispered softly before she left his apartment. Brady watched her go and then closed his door, turned back to the couch and finished the rest of his drink.

Hadn't he wanted her to come to him like this for years? Desperate and afraid. Hadn't he wanted her to need him? Yes. But not when all her efforts were for another man and when it was all over that wouldn't change. Still holding the shiny glass in his hand, he stood and threw it against the door. "Dammit!" It would be just like before. She'd get what she wanted and then leave him all alone again.  



	2. Bruised

Hey all, I'm sorry this took so long. I broke my thumb and it's been uncomfortable to type with. Thank you all for the replies. This fic will eventually be rated R, so keep that in mind. I hope there is still interest for this fic. 

* * *

  
Morning poked through the blinds, coating the open room in sparks of light. Up too late to even consider sleep, Brady lay restlessly on the couch. All night he 

could not get the image of a sorrowful Chloe out of his head. If he ever had his doubts about her marriage to Philip they were now washed out the window. It was obvious she cared. 

Picking himself up, feeling like his legs weighed a ton, he marched up to his room to shower. As he rinsed the shampoo from his hair, he could hear someone downstairs. Drying and dressing quickly, he grabbed his gun and stuck it in the back of his jeans. Dashing down the stairs, his anger rose. "What the fuck?" Brady glared at the other blonde man and Jason stepped back.  


"I let myself in. Don't get all pissy with me either, I'm the one doing you a favour. Here's the research you wanted." Jason handed the file folder to Brady and like a puppy being praised, he smiled. 

"I could have shot you," Brady said, swiping the folder from Jason's hand. 

"You knew it was me, you don't even have your gun out. Besides I'm too quick for ya." Jason laughed deeply, much to Brady's dismay.

"You're such a cocky son of a bitch. " Brady gritted his teeth and sucked in a breath. Why the fuck did he have to be such an ass to everyone, even to his best friend? Turning the pages in his rough hands, Bradys eyes studied the information and his chest tightened with knowledge. "Thanks, Jase."

Jason turned on his heel, stocked to the fridge like he hadn't seen food in a week. "She's got a million locked up in her account," he said over his shoulder drinking directly from the milk carton. "It's tighter than a fuckin' chastity belt. Oh, and you were right." 

Brady cocked his eyebrows together. "About what?"

Jason stuffed a donut into his mouth and chewed quickly. "The will. Everything goes to him if she dies."

"That sick son-of-a-bitch," Brady growled. "We'll have to leave and it has to be tonight. Have you found that other information I wanted?"

"Not yet, but I'm working on it. You do realize what this means right?"

"Yeah, we'll leave tonight. You'll know where to find me?" Brady asked and was satisfied by the curt nod Jason tossed him. "As soon as you know..."

"I'll be in touch." Jason was still raiding the fridge even as he turned to leave, Brady laughed and clapped him on the back.

"Just take some food with you."

Jason gave him a sheepish grin. "Thanks, I'm starved."

As soon as Jason left Brady went through the files another time making sure he hadn't missed anything. 

________________ 

Chloe lay in bed surrounded by blankets and pillows that swallowed her feminine body. She hadn't slept the whole night. Not only had she been afraid the kidnappers may return, she also couldn't stop thinking about Brady. In all the years she'd known him, he'd never been that cold to her. But things had changed and she knew his cruelty towards her was shaped from fear and a past history she thought they could forget. She was wrong. As soon as she locked eyes with him, she knew those feelings had come back. The hurt. The blame. The love. He did his best to hide it, but she saw through him. Even though his eyes had been ice, she knew somewhere, buried very deeply they still shared a connection.

He stood in the doorway watching the even rise and fall of her body, though he couldn't make out whether she was actually sleeping or not. The light framed her face and from where he stood, he could see an ugly purple bruise he hadn't noticed the night before. She looked tired and if he knew her as well as he thought he did, she hadn't slept a wink either.

Sensing someone's presence Chloe sprang out of bed, holding the baseball bat like a lifeline. Adjusting her eyes to the light, she recognized the lean, tall frame of Brady Black. "You scared the shit out of me!" She yelled throwing the bat down on the comforter.

"No wonder it was so easy for them to take Philip, it took me all of thirty seconds to pick the lock." Although he tried to deny it, when he looked at her, his blood began to boil. She was wearing a sheer pearl nightgown. It was elegant and suited Chloe well, unlike the sweats and bulky sweater she'd worn to his apartment. He had to swallow hard when his eyes swept over her and made out the shape of her rose nipples through the fabric. 

Feeling a slight shiver, Chloe looked down embarrassed and crossed her arms over her chest. Her cheeks grew hot and her eyes diverted to the mahogany night stand so she wouldn't have to look his way. "I'll have to replace them."

Brady stepped forward like a ferocious lion bearing his teeth. The lines on his face were harsh and his eyes were ice. She could feel the heat coming off his body the closer he got and her heart quickened at his approach. There was something primal in his eyes and if she didn't know better, she'd say it was desire. The smell of him was a combination of fresh soap and leather. He was wearing the jacket. It drove her nuts when he wore it. The soft leather and old smell of it brought back so many memories, she had to close her eyes for a brief moment. When she opened them again, he was right there in front of her. Standing so close she could stick out her tongue and taste him.  


Focussing on her lips, he noticed they were still full and wonderful like how he'd remembered. He wondered if she'd still taste the same. A wicked thought. If when he touched her, she'd still shiver and lean into his touch. The man in him, the one angry with need, wanted to find out. Wanted to lay her down on the bed and make her whimper and moan from his touch. The angry man in him knew she'd let him take her right there, knew he could part her legs and make her scream his name. But the angry man didn't rule, the rational man had precedence today. 

His hand found her cheek; loved the way her skin felt underneath it and the soft goose bumps that rose. He cold feel the shiver go through her and he sucked in a breath in response. For a moment he let himself touch her like he knew she needed. For a moment he forgot the hurt and pain and lived. Her skin was even softer than he remembered, he almost couldn't stop touching her. Couldn't stop when his finger made a trail down her jaw and slowly raked over the column of her throat to her collarbone. Lingering there, his eyes focussed on the swell of her breasts and those glorious nipples that stood proud. How easy it would be to bury them in his mouth and take from her what he always wanted. How easy it would be to slip the thin strap from her shoulder and kiss a hot trail of wet kisses against her. It was too easy, he realized. 

He caressed and soothed in a way that was so gentle and tender, like the Brady she had known. And if only for a moment, she could see the man he once had been in those ice blue eyes....just for a moment. In the next it was gone and the spell was broken. He crossed the room and picked up her wedding photo. "Did Philip do that...or was it the kidnappers?"

Chloe lifted her hand to her face and felt the sting of the bruise. "Philip doesn't beat me, Brady." The sound of her voice -strained and tired- from years of defending the man she called husband, made him wince as he turned away from her.

"Oh, and we should be thankful for that," he said sarcastically. "He just lets himself be kidnapped and allows the woman he supposedly loves to be terrorized. But we should be thankful he doesn't lay a hand on you, after all to not beat your wife must seem noble to a rat like him. I should phone the mayor, maybe we could get him a medal of honour." He knew he was being harsh, but after years of not caring, he'd forgot how to show his concern. 

"Stop it!"

His eyes were fierce; his voice a growl. "Does the truth hurt?"

Chloe sighed, grabbed her robe and tied it around herself. "Tell me Brady, what bothers you more: the fact that I got hurt because of my husband or the fact that my husband is Philip."

Brady laughed, a cold bitter laugh that held so much heartache she could barely stand it. "Don't be so arrogant, honey. You're not the same Diva I once knew."

"And you're not the man I lo-you're not the man I knew either," Chloe said flustered.

"I guess that makes us even."

"I guess so."

The frame dangled from his fingers and once through with the insults, he brought it back up to study it. "You look happy," he said quietly, so softly she thought she'd imagined it.

"I was," she replied in the same soft voice. A lie. "I wish you had come."

"No, no you don't," Brady told her sadly and put the frame back on the dresser.

If only he'd known the truth. That she'd waited for him to get there; watched while she was supposed to be getting dressed for his Harley to come down the side streets leading to the church. Made Philip wait for the ceremony to start while she called him at home, got the answering machine and hung up. If only he'd known she cried and sank down into a chair and it was Belle who forced her to get up and clean herself up. No one knew she was crying because she was so very sad. He would have known though. She knew if he had come, she never would have married Philip. But he hadn't.

"Things would have been different," she sighed shakily.

Brady turned to her then. "Let's just cut it out with the walks down memory lane, we'll have plenty of time to talk on the way there."

"Where? Are we going somewhere?" Chloe's eyes widened in surprise.

"Yeah, and you'll see where when we get there." His words were short, clipped, and then he turned to exit the room. "Change your clothes and hurry along."

"I can't go. This is my home." 

What made her think she had to point that out to him? Didn't she know he could smell her all throughout the house; the soft floral scent of her that haunted his dreams?  
  
Brady turned, stalked back into the room. His steps were heavy and his boots beat the wood floors underneath with each step. "We leave tonight. No exception."

"But-"

Brady took her arm in one of his larger hands, shaking her gently. "Chloe, those same men that took Philip could be after you."

"Oh, I don't think-" 

Ducking his head so he could look her in the eye, he pulled her closer. "That's right, you don't think. You said Philip was into drugs, how do you know he wasn't hiding other secrets? Now pack your bags and stop arguing."  
  
"What I'm just supposed to leave because you say so?" She wriggled out of his grasp and stood with her hands on her hips. The anger was radiating off her and he could tell she was going to put up a fight. He was almost glad to see it. Happy that she still had fight in her after her marriage to his uncle.

His temper sprouted anew. "You wanted my help didn't you?" Chloe dared not to look at him, turned her head to the side and gave a wimpy nod in reply. "Well, didn't you? Speak up, I can't hear you."

She whirled around taking her hands from her hips. "Dammit yes! But that gives you no right-Jesus Brady! You don't have to be so angry with me," she said on the verge of tears as she pointed a finger into his broad chest.

He grabbed her hand, ran his fingers over her knuckles softly. "Okay, okay. We don't have all day Chloe, come on now. Forget your stuff, we'll pick up what you need when we get to where we're going."


	3. Forlorn

Thinking back, she should have been suspicious. When he told her to forget her clothes, she should have known something was wrong. Why the urgency? Why the need to leave right then, when it would have only taken her half an hour to pack? And now they were on a private jet to God knows where, to do God knows what. Chloe hated to fly. It always made her nauseous. Not to mention the pressure she felt in her ears that made her head feel like it was caving in. But there was no way she was going to let Brady know. She was older now, not the teenager that had depended on him for some much. She could handle this on her own.

Shaking her head, Chloe let the questions dissolve and closed her eyes. She had a mild case of vertigo ever since the plan took off, not to mention the tired ache in her body. 

"You okay?" Brady asked showing the first inkling of concern for her since the night before.

"I'm fine," Chloe replied softly, touching her bruised cheek.

Brady didn't like the look she had on her face. Her skin was ashen and her eyes were dark. Knowing she hadn't slept the night before, he hoped it was only fatigue that was making her look so sick. "Does it hurt?" He asked, surprising himself with the tenderness in his voice.

"A little," she told him, smiling softly.

Standing, he stepped over to the mini-bar and dumped some ice onto one of the starched cranberry napkins that were resting on the counter top. Moving back towards her, he placed it against her cheek until she was grasping the cold bundle herself. "That should help," he rasped.

"Thank you," Chloe said, not able to look him in the eye, afraid of what she may find there.

"May I ask you something?" Brady said when he was safely back in his seat. 

"You're going to anyway, so why be polite about it?" She countered, still keeping her eyes closed as the ice cooled her cheek and eased the sting of the bruise. 

Brady ran a hand through his hair, tugged on it so it stood on end, then sighed frustrated. Chloe was the same. She was still as frustrating and infuriating as ever. More than that, she still got to him like no one else could. "I'm a private investigator, it's my job to ask questions. Polite or not."

"I guess."

"So then, if you knew Philip was using and lying to you about it, why did you stay with him. Why not leave?"

"He's my husband," she said simply.

"He's your husband? That's your answer?" Brady breathed through his nose, trying to reign his temper back in. 

"Yeah, it is. Why? What do you want me to say? I don't exactly feel comfortable talking about Philip when I know you're judging me. Underneath that smug smile, you're thinking how foolish I am. Thinking back and remembering what a bitch I was, aren't you? You can judge me all you want Brady, but it won't change the past."

"I'm sorry, that was unfair. I shouldn't have...you're right, it's none of my business."

Taking the ice away from her face, she sat up so she could look at him better. "Brady, I came to you because I trust you, I always have. I know you're concerned even if you won't admit it and I know I've hurt you-"

"Chloe."

"No, hear me out. I know I've done things you don't agree with, but I made choices and whether I regret them now is irrelevant. This is my life and I live it everyday. Right now, all that is important is getting Philip back. Can't we try to be friends? I once mattered to you...if I still mean anything, we can get past this and -if not be the friends we were- at least we can try again. So what'dya say, can we try this?"

"I can't be who I was then," he told her honestly. "But I won't let you down."

"You never have," she told him quietly.

Brady watched Chloe close her eyes. He continued to watch as her breathing evened out and her grip relaxed on the napkin. He stood slowly. Tentatively, he walked toward her. She didn't move. Slowly and quietly, he eased down on one knee and extracted the wet napkin from her hand -the ice long melted- and set it on the ground. He held his breath as he brought his hand to her cheek and smoothed one lean finger against her high cheek bone. Circling the bruise, Chloe let out a low sigh and shifted slightly. Brady pulled back his hand and took in a deep breath. 

Somehow Chloe had wound up in a large bed, propped up with pillows. She didn't remember falling asleep or even getting into bed. Beside her on the night stand was a stack of clothing. Sitting up, she changed without even flipping on the light. It was dark out and by the quiet of the room, she figured it was late. Too tired to get out of bed and roam around, she decided she would save the exploration for the morning. 


	4. pancakes

Hmm...is anyone still reading?? During the next chapter or two the rating will change to R so if you can't find it, change your settings (if people still care).

Anyway seeing as today was the end of our beloved Broe, I thought it only appropriate to send them off right with a new chapter on this truly sad day. (Yes, I am being melodramatic, but under the circumstances I don't care, lol.) To me Brady and Chloe will always be an amazing pairing with spirit and chemistry that is hardly ever matched on daytime. I hope this pair will continue to live on in fanfiction and I urge authors to continue to write for them. I haven't read Broe fiction in some time and I think that may become my new past time this summer since they will no longer be on my screen anymore. 

_____________________________

  
  


Lazily rolling out of bed, Chloe caught the first of the morning light from the open blinds as it danced against her closed eyes. When she sat up she could hear activity in the kitchen and guessed Brady was already up. He always was an early riser. The fight the night before forgotten and the tentative truce between them, she headed for the stairs. 

The sun blazed a thick blanket of heat into her room and she was thankful for the lightweight nightgown she'd found amongst the stack of clothes in her room. 

At the top of the stairs her breath hitched as she watched a shirtless Brady flipping pancakes on an old iron griddle. His gray sweat pants were riding low on his hips, showing off his muscled torso and the roll of muscles in his back as he moved. Her mouth watered. She found herself wondering what it would feel like to have him in her bed again. To feel his strong arms around her when they made love. Tread lightly, she thought. The agreement between them was less than nine hours old and the last thing she needed was to break it because her hormones were on overdrive. 

She stood poised on the stairs watching him. From the corner of his eye, he could make out her smooth, shapely legs. What he wouldn't give to run his fingers over her silky thighs and bury them deep into her body while she rocked against him, drawing a powerful orgasm that would shatter their already shaky friendship. He tore his eyes from her before he did something he knew would cross the line. 

The simmer that had begun the night she came to him, he knew, would soon boil over and they would be forced to confront the anger and wounded pride, along with the feelings of lust and love. But right now it was the former that ruled. Love? He didn't even want to think about it. Yes, he wanted her. Probably more now than he ever had when they were younger. Forbidden fruit is always sweeter, right? His blood was boiling just beneath the surface; he could feel the painful rise in his pants and willed it to stop. Jesus, Hades was probably cooler than his crotch right now. 

He wanted her all those years ago when they were still practically kids. Dammit, he wanted her now. Even though she'd broken his heart and even though the wound still ached sometimes...all the time. 

"Are the clothes okay?" Early in the morning, Brady's voice was a raspy grate and it tickled Chloe's ears. 

She smiled reassuringly. "They're fine. The right size and everything." Twirling, Brady marvelled at how the soft silk nightgown moulded to every curve of her body. She was trying to torture him, he knew it. 

"You slept well?" As he set the plate of steaming pancakes on the table, he finally looked in her direction and then sat down. 

"I haven't slept like that," she wanted to say since she left him for a lesser man, but she couldn't; wouldn't do that to him again. "It's been a long time since I slept like that." Talking to him was like walking a tightrope precariously swaying above a crowd of onlookers waiting for her to fall. It never used to be this way. There was a time she could tell him everything. There was a time when she wasn't so afraid of her feelings. Screw it! "I felt safer than I have in a long time, so I guess I should thank you."

Taking the morning paper in his hands, Brady thumbed through the pages looking for the sports section. "Don't thank me, thank your husband. He's the reason we're here."

"But he isn't the reason I felt safe." Looking up for a brief moment, Chloe wasn't sure what emotion she saw swirling in his eyes.

"Do you want the comics? I remember from before, when we... I remembered that you liked to read them."

"Yeah, thank you. I see you made pancakes."

"Help yourself." 

With a stab of butter and lots of syrup, Chloe stacked her plate high. This was much to Brady's amusement as he hide behind the thin sheet of newspaper, discreetly watching her. Digging her fork into the fluffy golden circles, she took and enormous bite; didn't care that she let some syrup drizzle from plate to table to her mouth, creating a sticky trail. Letting out an exaggerated mumble of approval, Chloe snapped the paper away from Brady's face where he had been hiding his smirk. When she removed the sports section though, his face was stone and he pretended not to be interested in anything she had been doing. "Mmm Brady, these are from scratch, when did you find the time to learn how to make them?"

"I don't need a lot of sleep." His great shoulders shrugged, tightening all those blessed muscles in his chest. "Some people watch infomercial's, I cook." Ruffling the paper, he pulled it in front of him again. "By the way Chloe, there's this new thing it's called chewing, swallowing then talking, maybe you ought to try it sometime."

"I wouldn't give you the satisfaction." She laughed and was surprised when she thought she heard him stifle his own laughter. 

"It feels nice to hear you laugh," he admitted and then instantly regretted it. He'd let down his guard. 

"It felt good."

"Do you ever smile anymore?" He sneered, wondering how long she'd been unhappy. Had they, in fact, shared the same distaste for life all these years?

"Do you?" She countered, lifting her perfectly shaped brow in question.

He sighed loudly, returning his eyes to the paper. "I have no reason to."

Clearing her throat, she caught his attention. "Maybe if you weren't so uptight," she teased, trying to break the tension.

"Maybe," he said sarcastically and went back to reading the paper while she ate. 

When she'd finished eating, she took her plate to the sink and filled it with water. She started washing the mugs and cups, humming to herself like it was a typical day. Brady watched her from the corner of his eye. Smiled slightly when her hips swayed to a beat in her head. Though they had been apart for years, she seemed the same. Maybe a little more cynical and a lot less happy, but still good natured and the most beautiful and amazing woman he'd ever seen.

"You missed one," he said, coming behind her and placing his coffee mug into the soapy water accidentally brushing her emerged hand. She stood straight, bumping into his chest and he put his hands on her arms to steady her. "Whoa. Relax," he soothed, slowly brushing his fingers down her arms and slightly skimming her hipbone. 

She closed her eyes. She couldn't help it. The smell of him, clean and woodsy and the feel of him, strong and powerful, shot through her. She leaned back into his body without thinking. 

At first he didn't pull away. He took a generous breath and exhaled slowly, sending tiny, exciting chills down her neck along with his warm, coffee scented breath. 

She had to swallow and concentrate on breathing or she would have passed out. "Brady..." she said and it came out as a moan. 

His hand locked on her hip and spread over her stomach. "Don't!" All at once, her guard went up and she pushed against him to get away. Winded, she leaned against the counter to brace herself.

"I didn't mean to," he said. There was a long minute of silence before he spoke again. "Or maybe I did." With that, he stormed away, slamming the door behind him.


	5. Honey

Brady had brought them to a place that was a tropical paradise. Palms scattered the beach on clean white sand and the ocean spread before them, a never-ending lapse of blue water struck the shore. This was the type of place she'd wanted to go her whole life. The type of place that didn't demand anything from her. She could just be. 

The salt water smell of the air was a welcome change to the polluted clogging air from the city and Chloe relished in it. She kicked off her shoes and ran through the sand like she was ten years old again and didn't have a care in the world. 

Brady watched her for the better part of the morning while she twirled and splashed in the surf, letting her hair go wild with curls that spanned the length of her back. If only for a moment, he imagined that this was how their life could have been...would have been if she hadn't turned and walked out on him.

The heat was getting to him and he took refuge in his small office sorting through other cases and looking for a way to get around legal technicalities. By late afternoon, the air conditioner began to make a rattling noise and he feared it was going to give out by days end. Reluctantly he shut if off and opened a window. The evening breeze was just starting up and the room stayed cool. He heard the back door creak and knew Chloe was back from the beach. He didn't bother to greet her. There was still too much tension and an unnatural pull that kept him from trusting himself. The best thing for both of them was for him to stay away until they rode this thing out and he could get Chloe back to Salem.

--

Chloe had spent the afternoon on the beach while Brady kept himself closed up in the office just off the kitchen. She'd heard him on the phone a few times and he seemed angry. Chloe had never heard him that angry. As the day winded down and the sky was cast in gold and crimson light, she stepped back into the house. Her only thought was to have a nice hot shower and then sink into bed under the cool sheets and just forget.

--

Hearing Chloe race up the stairs, Brady stepped out of the office and moved to look out the window. The room was hot and his white button-down clung to his sticky skin. Gingerly undoing the buttons, he stepped out of the house and walked the beach, his shirt flapping in the wind. Soon the heat of the sun was pounding against his back, even though it was nearing eight o'clock, so he dropped his shirt from his shoulders with ease and kept walking.

Chloe stepped under the hot spray and soaked her hair. The bathroom was clean and bright with a hint of natural light coming from the open window. She quickly gazed out the window, but a person caught her eye. It was Brady on the beach, tan, tone and real. A deep ache began to throb between her thighs. The years away from Brady had done nothing to lessen her attraction to him, if anything time had increased her need. The years had been kind to him and although he wasn't the same young man he once was, he'd developed into a very strong, brave man. His body was more built than she had remembered. His chest was broad and solid and his back the same. The muscles rolled when he moved and his tousled hair became more so. He was beautiful.   
  
God she missed him. Missed his hands on her, his strong, strong fingers. Missed the way he made her feel when they were close, bodies pressed together and no space between them. She missed being connected to him. The throb continued to build and build so much so that she had to turn the water to cold and turn her eyes from the window. When she lathered soap over her body , she resisted the urge to do more naughty things. 

Hours later, Chloe lay in bed, restless. Her entire body was aching for human touch...for Brady's touch. Throwing off the thin sheet that covered her, Chloe stepped out of bed. 

She stopped on the last stair when she saw him gazing out the window to the moonlit sky. "You're still up," she said, sounding surprised.

"I told you I don't sleep that much." He swiped his hand over his face and closed his eyes briefly before he turned to her. His breath caught in his lungs.  
  
"Right. Brady, why don't we just stop playing this game."

"What game?"

His heart raced, hard and fast against the bulk of his chest. His eyes roamed her body of their own accord. His body straightened; perked up with the smell of sex in the air. All she was wearing was one of those silk mens shirt nightgowns with the buttons in front. The room was electric with so much lust and desire it made it hard to breath. One charge, one tiny spark would set the room ablaze. 

"Something is going on here. I can feel it and I know you can too," Chloe rasped gaining another foot closer.

Brady yanked his hand through his short spiked hair in frustration, sexually and otherwise. "What is it you think is happening between us?"

"The same thing that always happens when we're together; the reason I had to stop seeing you after I married-"

He held up his hand stopped her mid-sentence. "Don't say it. I don't want to talk about that. Not now. Not tonight."

"Fine. I want you Brady. I won't deny it, not tonight."

A muscle in his jaw ticked as he tried to hold back his anger. "What am I supposed to say to that?"  


"You can't tell me you don't want this." Her head shook and those damn ringlets swayed with the movement, entrancing him in some mysterious hypnotic state. His body started to burn for her. The deep pressure built steadily making his jeans tight and uncomfortable. Even as he tried to deny it, she was quick to speak again.

"I can see it in your eyes. I can see that you need it just as much as I do." Her eyes were a scandalous mix of lust and passion as she stepped forward. Removing the clip form her hair, she let it cascade down her shoulders, pool against her buttocks. "Just give in." 

Placing her hands on his chest, her fingers splayed the great expanse of muscle underneath her hand. Shoulders square, jaw set, he was spring tight. Letting her thumb rub the tight bead of his nipple, she was encouraged by the tiny flutter of breath that landed against her cheek. Letting her fingers trail down his stomach to scratch and mesh with the tiny blonde hairs below his belly button, Chloe smiled a vixens smile. 

"Touch me, Brady." She knew what power she had over him and that if she just played with him a bit she could parlay that power into passion. "Right here," she moaned. Manipulating his hands against the vee of her nightgown, she let him feel how swollen her breasts were in anticipation of his touch. To have those strong hands over her, made her knees go weak. He needed to be touching her in ways that were sinful; she needed it more than she needed to breath. When her tongue flicked against his bottom lip that was it.

He tried to resist but the surge of energy that rushed through his fingers whispered for him to take her. "Is this what you want?" Grabbing the ends of her nightgown he ripped it apart sending the buttons skittering across the floor. Her nipples speared when the cool air hit her and the groan she let out was pure sexual desire. Cradling her breast in his large hand, his mouth moved against the column of her throat, nipping and mending the tiny bites.

Chloe pushed herself against his hand and arched her back to get closer. "Oh God, yes!" 

When his mouth dipped into the hollow of her throat, and continued down to the curve of her breasts, she became drunk from his touch. She fisted her hand in his hair pulling a ragged moan from the back of his throat. Through her silk bra he kissed her perfect breasts. Drawing his mouth against her hard peak, Chloe's eyes closed and a guttural moan followed a shudder that sailed through her body. His tongue was quick and generous as he feasted on her nipples bringing them to the surface. The silk grew wet as he lapped against her, taking all he'd wanted over the years. She was jelly in his hands and he had a sweet tooth that wouldn't be satisfied with just a taste. She was honeysuckle sweet and he watched her blossom in front of him. 

That's it, he thought as she moaned his name. Suckling, he devoured her like the ripest fruit straight from the vine. The saccharine taste of her reached his tongue and he had to swallow a few curse words. 

Pushing Chloe against the wall he took her mouth; crushed his lips against her with bruising force. His hands travelled from her hip to her thigh, digging into the soft skin just below her nightgown. His hand slid under, pulling the silky material up with his fingers. Cupping her bottom, his fingers dug into her, pushing her against his rock hard body. His hands were rough with her, not giving way to tenderness that came with sweet lovemaking. This was sex in it's purest form. Hot and gaudy. Fast and tortured. They were crushed against the wall, breathing each other in. The friction was a thing of beauty as it sparkled with a life of its own. 

When she thought she couldn't get any more turned on, he proved her wrong. His palm slipped between them moving against her hot center. 

"Fuck, you're so wet, I bet you taste like honey."

The words sent the ache between her legs to throb even harder. Spreading her legs with his thick thigh, he settled there allowing her to buck and bend against him. 

She was spinning; moving so fast she forgot that what they were doing was irrational. That it shouldn't be happening. That she was a married woman. The feel of him against her thigh made her wet through her panties. He thrust against her, burying his face against her neck saying words that were fire against her ear. Her breath was raspy and ragged against his neck where she bit and soothed, then sucked the blood to the surface colouring the skin a deep purple. The shell of his ear surrendered to her tongue and she dipped and laved at the creases and folds. 

His lips were on hers again, and his tongue drew her out. Sliding into the dark cavern, his tongue sought and explored, finding the wonderful taste of her again and again. Pulling her lip into his mouth he bit down and was satisfied by the coppery taste of blood. Soothing the wound with his tongue, he came back for more, tasting her like she was his last grasp of reality. And she was.

He'd forgotten she was a hellcat in the sack, but as her nails scratched down his back, his memory resurfaced, sending an ice cold bucket of water through his system. The thought of anyone else having her this way made him sick. And he knew, even as his body pressed into her, that she'd been with Philip, maybe even just like this. Maybe she'd lost herself for him and dripped with hot sweat. A part of him --the very male part-- wanted to believe he was the only one that made her that crazy. But he knew it couldn't be. 

He pushed her away on a heartfelt groan. Just as fast as it had started, it was over. Both in their respective halves of the room, were panting for oxygen.

Brady slammed his fist into the wall. How long had he wanted that? How many times had he dreamed of touching Chloe that intimately? How often had he thought of laying on top of her, spreading her thighs and sinking into her warmth? He might have dreamed it; wanted it, but had never wanted to give in to it. Giving in to it meant giving her power over him. And he almost let her have that.

"Brady, it's okay." Chloe, who had been slumped against the wall, righted herself and straightened out her nightgown.

"No it's not!" When he whirled around his eyes were hollow angry orbs. 

She touched her lips. They were red and plump from their heated kisses. "I need you, Brady."

Brady looked at her and was repulsed with himself. Her face was flushed, her blouse still undone and he could still see the soft cream of her breasts, marred red from his calloused hands. "What about Philip, hmm? That's the reason you're here. That's why you came to me in the first place, isn't it? Oh I get it, he's not here and you thought I'd make a fine substitute; that I couldn't resist you, is that right?"

"It's not like that and you know it!"

"Oh no? Then what's it like? Why don't you explain it to me, Chloe."

"Brady."

"No really, I'm interested. Tell me! Will you sweet talk me and fuck me and pretend I'm him and then tomorrow pretend it never happened? Will we sit across from each other at the breakfast table while you loathe my very presence and pretend we're strangers again?"

"That's not how it would be and you know it!"

"I don't know it!" He yelled, causing her to shrink. "The only thing I know is that I let you in my life ten years ago and for what? For you to run back to Philip when I told you I loved you. When I touched you and kissed you...when I made love to you. Look where it got me. When things got too hard, you turn to him instead of me? Is that how relationships work?"

Chloe crossed her arms under her breasts and jutted out her chin. "That's not fair. Don't you dare do that to me!"

"Life isn't fair, Chloe. I learned that the hard way. You just need to deal with it." Brady scratched his fingers through his untamed hair and shook his head adamantly.

"You know I lost something too. It was my child too. Dammit Brady! I lost her too!"

His anger was barely concealed in his eyes and it threatened to explode if he wasn't careful. His voice was calm and cool when he spoke again. "Yeah, you did, but I didn't just lose our baby, I lost you too."

She stared at him hard, forcing the tears in her eyes to remain there.

"Wipe that look off your face. This is who I am now," he growled.

"No, it's not, it's who you pretend to be," she said softly and retreated to the sanctuary of the bedroom. 

Brady whirled around and watched as she moved quietly out of the room. God dammit, he still wanted her, but more than that, still loved her.

  
  


_____

This is dedicated to Georgie who months and months ago bribed me into writing a sentence with the words "Fuck" and "Honey" in it and this was the result. 


	6. Forgiveness

Brady heard the door slam and it sounded like a drum beat to the final act in an ongoing opera. He wasn't sorry for the things he said. All these years he'd bottled up all the feelings and emotions that he was too scared to ever share with anyone else. But he was a weak man when it came to her and he let her prove it tonight. He let her touch him and tamper with his already breaking heart and now she knew that she still had that power over him.

Rummaging through the cupboards, he found an empty pack of cigarettes and crumbled it through his fingers in frustration. Feeling the rising heat of the beach house, he pulled open the back door and set out onto the beach. The moon was out and lit his path to the waters edge. He sat down, digging his feet into the cool sand and feeling the rush of wind blow against his back. It felt good. 

Picking up a rock, he measured its weight in his hand before he tossed it into the ocean and watched as it made a large splash a fair way out. His head sank to his knees and though he tried to force it down bile rose in his throat. God dammit he was going to get an ulcer if he kept this up. 

He didn't know long he'd been there, but when the cherry sun began to come up, he decided it was time to go back inside. 

The next morning Chloe woke up to the sounds of construction. Dressing quickly, she headed downstairs where Brady was nailing boards to the windows. The beach house had cooled down and she suspected he'd been up all night again tinkering with the air conditioner until he fixed it. By the grease smeared on his shirt and jeans, she knew she was right. 

"What are you doing?"

Brady barely looked at her over his shoulder before he went back to work. "There's going to be a storm within the next few days. I have to make sure everything is locked up tight. The winds can get pretty bad in the tropics and it's better to be safe than sorry."

"Oh."

Picking up another board, he resumed his work. "Breakfast is on the table if you're hungry and there's fresh orange juice in the fridge."

"Thanks," she said quietly.

Brady watched as she walked to the table and sat down, not even touching her food. She rested her head on her hand and let out a long sigh. Brady shook his head and began to search the cabinets below the sink. 

"What are you looking for?"

"The first aid kit. You know, just in case."

Bending down, Brady braced a hand on the counter as he ducked his head under the sink and pulled out the simple white box. Misjudging the distance between the counter on his way out, he bumped his head with a loud thump.

"Shit!" Brady cursed, holding his head as the blood began to trickle from the wound. He threw the first aid kit across the room and it skidded to a stop by her feet.

"I guess it's good you found it," she teased, holding her laughter. "Here. Let me see."

Chloe sat down next to him cross-legged and took his hand from his forehead, replacing with her own. She probed the wound with skilled fingers and let out a low whistle between her teeth. "Doesn't look very good." 

"Christ woman, I'm fine." Pushing her hand away, he touched the wound again. 

"Right. Come on, let me help you."

"I don't need your help, Chloe," he bit off with disdain. He let out a low hiss and finally met her eyes. A slow trickle of blood slithered down his cheek and he swept it away with his index finger and thumb.

"Fine," Chloe huffed, opening the first aid kit and pulling out some cotton swaps and antiseptic. "I know you like to be stubborn, but let me help you anyway."

His blue eyes lifted and met hers. "I'm not stubborn," he said slowly, "I just don't want you touching me right now."

"Oh." Chloe's eyelashes fluttered rapidly as she tried to blink back tears. 

Sensing he had said the wrong thing, he brought his hand under her chin and raised it until she would meet his eyes. "It's not what you're thinking, Chloe. I don't want you to touch me, because I love the way it feels, not because I don't want you to."  
  
A smile broke on her face and her eyes scanned his skin. She was mildly satisfied with the large hickey on his neck. He was branded; marking him as hers. Touching the welt with the tips of her fingers, she smiled. "I guess I got a little carried away last night."

"Let's not talk about that. It shouldn't have happened. We were both lonely and needed someone, that's all it was."

"No it wasn't. You know it was more than just needing someone, it was about needing each other. I needed you Brady. I still do. Hell, I probably always will and I don't just mean for a quick lay."

He closed his eyes for a moment and then let out a deep breath. "I don't want to get into this right now. I have too much on my mind to worry about what you need."  
  
"Just hear me through. For once, just let me explain." Seeing her window of opportunity to finally get things out in the open, she seized it. Dabbing the antiseptic on a cotton ball, she brought it toward his head. 

"You can explain all you want, but that still won't change things." He took the cotton ball from her and flinched when he touched it to his raw skin. "I know you never wanted our baby...or me apparently. It didn't go along with your plans for the future. Just say it Chloe, I screwed up your life and you were glad to get rid of me."

"No, we didn't plan it, but I wanted that baby...I wanted you. When I miscarried.-"

"Chloe," Brady began, taking her hand, "I can't do this. Not right now." His voice was weak and his eyes were just the slightest bit wet. 

"Then when? It has to be now." Chloe brushed the hair from her face and let out a shaky breath. "Philip, he-he needed me, you never did."

"And that's your reason for going back to him?"

"He needed me."

"That's a pretty lame excuse." Brady rolled his eyes.

"Dammit, he needed me and I wanted to feel needed. You always were so independent, I just thought-"

"That's bullshit and you know it's bullshit. I did need you. I needed you so bad it hurt. Christ Chloe, I told you I loved you, I told you we could work it out, that everything you were feeling, I was feeling too. I loved that baby just as much as you sat you did. I was looking forward to being a parent just as much as you, but that's not how it turned out. You saw an out when you miscarried and you took it. You ran out of my apartment while I slept and went to Philip. There's nothing you can do to explain that away."

"Dammit Brady, I was scared."

"You think I wasn't? You think I didn't lay awake and wonder if I could make you as happy as you had the right to be. I wanted to give you so much, Chloe. I wanted to give you everything."

Chloe nodded her head rapidly, afraid to look at him now. "I knew that. Deep down, I knew that."

"Then why did you turn to Philip?" Brady's hand moulded her cheek and the light caresses seemed to reassure her.

Chloe covered his hand with hers and drew strength from that connection. "Because I never loved him. Because every time I looked at you, I saw the pain in your eyes from something I caused."

"What!? Chloe, losing the baby wasn't your fault." Brady reached out his arms and pulled her into his chest, letting her rest her head against the crook of his neck. He could feel the tears wetting his skin and his heart was breaking all over again, just as it had that night they found out the baby was gone. "How could you think that? I never blamed you. Not ever."

"I know you didn't, but I did. I just thought if I had done something different. If I hadn't exercised so much or eaten more fruit... I don't know, Brady...I just wanted that look in your eyes gone."

Brady nodded and took a deep breath. He smoothed his hands down her back and let her slowly sit up on her own. "I never blamed you," he told her again, "and I don't blame you now, but you still went to Philip and that's hard on a guys ego."

Catching the rolling tears on her cheek, she sniffled the last of her tears away. "So I guess a quick romp would be out of the question?" She laughed. Really laughed.

"For now." He scratched the back of his neck. "Oh and Chloe? There would be nothing quick about it," he teased. His eyes ignited, sending a thrill into her body. Damned if he wasn't making a promise.   
  
Chloe took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. She rummaged through the first aid kit as a distraction. Pulling out a bandaid, she removed the packaging and smoothed it on over his cut. "There."

"Thanks," he said, running his fingers over it.  


Chloe looked at him for a long time before she spoke again. "Have there been many other women in your life?"

"None like you, but I'm still a man. I couldn't wait for you forever."

"I hurt you a lot." She took his hand.

"We've hurt each other."

"Do the wounds still feel fresh?"

He could see the shine of tear in her eyes. "Still deep, if that's what you're asking."

She would rebuild that trust if it took her the rest of her life. "Brady."

"Yeah?"

"I want you to know..." What that she loved him? How could she possibly say those words to him when she knew she'd only break his heart again? Christ, she was still married, but that didn't make the ache any less.

"What?"

"I just wanted to say that I've missed you."

"I know. Look," he said, motioning to stand, "I've got some business to deal with, so why don't you go hang out on the beach and maybe later I'll join you."

Chloe thought about it for a minute, before nodding. "Don't work too hard."

  
  


_____________

By the time Chloe came in that night it was well past dark and Brady was still locked up in his office. Hesitantly, Chloe walked to the door and quietly knocked.

"Come in," Brady said, without looking up from his paper work.

Chloe bit her lip. "Brady?"

"Hmm?"

"Promise me you won't stay up all night again. It's not good for you. Go to bed soon, you look tired."

"I will," he promised.

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Chloe."

Brady sat in his office going through files while he waited for a phone call from Jason. There was vital information they had to be sure of before they jumped to conclusions about Philip and his supposed 'kidnapping'. He didn't like the feel of things. Nor did he like what it could do to Chloe. 


	7. Swiss Alps

At midday the sun was too hot and Chloe decided to take a break from tanning to swim in the ocean. The waves beat against her skin and the water was just cool enough to be refreshing. 

Brady paced his office anxiously. He'd been waiting for Jason to come by for over an hour and was getting worried something had happened to him.  
  
Finally there was a knock on the door and sure enough it was Jason. 

"What the hell took you so long?"

"I got held up at airport security. There was apparently some problem with the medal detector. The flight attendant had to give me a strip search. It was completely humiliating," he said with an enormous grin.

"So you've kept me waiting so you could screw the bloody flight attendant?"

"Hey, that's not what I said! Don't you care that I was violated?"

Brady rolled his eyes. "Yeah, my heart's breaking for you. Now show me theses papers." 

"Hey, what's that on your neck?" The corners of Jason's mouth twitched.

Brady ran his fingers over the bruised flesh and sent Jason a nasty scowl. "Don't you even say one word."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

Brady subconsciously ran his fingers over his forehead and could almost still feel the caring way she caressed his face when she took care of him and the other ways she'd taken care of him the night before... "What'dya got for me?" he asked, snapping out of it. 

"Alright, well I found out quite a few things. First, I went back and checked out their house again. I found this in a pile of Chloe's things." Jason handed Brady the official looking papers.

"What the hell? This has to be a mistake."

"No, it's not. I contacted the lawyer who drew them up and it's all legit."

"That's...odd."

"She never mentioned anything about it?"

"No, not one word. I thought everything was okay between them. I knew they had their problems, but I didn't know they extended this far." Brady shook his head. "So, what else did you come up with?"

"Surveillance photos. Philip left a paper trail a mile long. It was easy to track him down. He's in the Swiss Alps. He set himself up with a swanky house, classic cars, beautiful women. He planned the whole thing. As far as I can tell there never were any drugs or kidnappers, just Philip looking for a way to escape."

"It doesn't even make sense. Why would he go to all this trouble? Why would he make Chloe worry and forge some stupid ransom note when he knew she couldn't get the money."

"Maybe that's why he did it. Maybe he knew the marriage was over and didn't want to have to suck up his pride."

"So, the will was just a decoy to make sure we got her out of there. He must have known she'd come to me. That I'd think he was trying to hurt her and make her leave. He probably thought I'd stop there. That once she was safe, I wouldn't really care what happened to him...and maybe he was right. Maybe I wanted her to come to me."

"Brady."

Brady shook his head and swallowed hard, the chords of his throat dancing in sync. "What kind of man makes his wife think he's using drugs and owes enough money that he has to be kidnapped?"

"You know Philip, he's always been an extremist," Jason scoffed. "Are you going to tell her?" 

Brady stared off into the distance. "I-I will."

"It sounds like there was a but."

"I just don't know how she'll react."

"There's only one way to find out, my man. One thing's for sure, Philip doesn't seem to be missing his wife any."

"Philip's never realized what he has. He's too stupid to see that Chloe is more than a prize. They've been together for a while, he's bored. God, I hate him."

"You know Philip was always a cocky son of a bitch, but I never thought he was an idiot."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Well, he'd have to be for hurting Chloe. He had to have known you wouldn't stand for it."

"Okay, keep an eye on him. Sniff around some more, just so we're sure of exactly what's going on. I'll contact you with our next move."

"Alright."

"You want to stay for dinner?"

"Wish I could, but I've got plans with Bambi, the flight attendant." Jason brought his fist to his mouth and bit down lightly. "This woman is amazing, she even promised to wear the uniform..."

Brady smiled, shaking his head. "Bambi? Oh jeez, go have fun man, but be on that flight tomorrow. I don't care how late you stay up."

"Not a problem. Have fun with whatever you're doing to." Jason winked slyly and slide out the door, tossing Chloe a casual wave where she sat on the beach.

Brady watched her for a few minutes before turning and heading back to his office to look over the papers and photos Jason had given to him.  
  
---------

Chloe sat under the umbrella shielding herself from the sun, her heels dug into the sand and her nose was pressed into a book. Brady, who had been watching from the window, stepped into a pair of sandals and walked out the door. He could hear the angelic sound of her voice as he made his way down the dune and to her side. He closed his eyes, remembering all the times he'd tried to teach her to put feeling into her singing in their youth. It didn't sound like she needed his help now. Her song was sad, lonely and it tugged at his heart.

She was nursing yet another drink and the sun has coloured her cheeks a golden brown. Did she have to have such a little swimsuit on? Didn't she know he was a sucker for those long, lean legs?

"There's something I need to tell you." 

Smiling when he squatted next to her, she offered him the glass. 

"Wanna'sip?" The words meshed together and it was obvious she was drunk. Blitzed. Smashed. She was going to feel it in the morning, that was for sure.

"No thanks and I think you've had enough anyway."

"No, no, I'm fine, thanks." She laughed, slapping his hand away when he reached for her glass. "So, what was Jason doing here?

"He was just giving me information... You know what, I'll tell you when you can comprehend what I'm saying. Have you eaten anything?"

"Nope, but I've drank a helluva lot of this." She smiled tapping the sweating glass.

"Why don't you hand it over and I'll just put it over here for you. You know, for safe keeping."

"You're not trying to take my booze away are ya mister?" She laughed, twirling the tiny pink straw around in the drink.

"Of course not."

"Why should I trust you?"

"Maybe you shouldn't."

"You're right, I trusted Philip and look where that got me... but I think I'll trust you anyway."

"Good. Hand it over."

"On one condition," she said, slyly, eyeing him up and down.

"What's that?"

"You show me what's under those swim trunks!" She laughed, snorting even, as she pulled on the drawstrings to his blue surfer-style shorts.

He gently took her hand away. "There's nothing there you haven't seen before."

"Well, yeah, but it's been...years. I remember Brady, don't try to trick me."

"I would never do such a thing," he said absently, staring out at the crystal blue ocean.

"Come on, show me what I've been missing all these years," she laughed then got quiet and remained so for several minutes. "We don't have sex," she told him. "Philip and I, we don't have sex. Not anymore. Not for a long time," she said softly to clarify. "I suppose I should say make love, but it never really was like that with us. It wasn't what you and I shared, Brady," she admitted adverting her eyes. "Never." The word came out louder as if she really needed him to hear it. That she never made love to anyone, but him. 

Despite the anger that he felt for her because she'd kept a secret he couldn't be mad at her when she was pouring out her heart for him. She was hurt and scared and vulnerable. He couldn't turn it around on her when she was like that. So he tucked the papers under the beach towel and hooked his arms under her knees and neck, lifting her easily. "Come on, I'll take you inside and you can sleep it off."

Chloe rested her head against his shoulder. She smelled like sand and seawater.  
  
He made it easily into the house and up the stairs into the room Chloe had been staying in. Gently, he laid her down and took her hands away from around his neck. Chloe stirred and opened her eyes sleepily.

"Just lay with me, just for a while," she whispered softly.

Brady turned over all the reasons he shouldn't stay in his head and then finally decided he didn't care. 

"Move over," he said and helped her move into the centre of the mattress. He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her against his chest. 

"You sounded lovely." His lips barely brushed her temple and he felt her shiver.

"What?"

"On the beach today, I heard you singing." 

"I was hardly singing, It was more of a humming." 

"Still, it sounded wonderful. I'd forgotten how much I missed the sound of your voice." The deep timbre of his voice--rough like sandpaper and still warm-- fluttered against her neck like a caress and sent a chill of longing down her spine. 

"Brady."

"I-I didn't mean it like that."

"Then how did you mean it?"

"Just that, I never stopped caring."

"And you think I did?"

His breath was shallow and even as he tried hard not to, he couldn't stop his hand from brushing down her back, pulling her closer to him. "I don't know what to think anymore."

"This should feel wrong, but it doesn't," she whispered into the darkness.  
  



	8. Hungry, Horny and Tired

The sun was down when Chloe woke up feeling dizzy and disoriented. She stretched, feeling hard muscle against her back and warm breath on her neck.

"Brady?" she said, into the darkness.

"Yeah?"

She was taken aback that he was not only awake, but that he still had his arms around her, holding her close. "What time is it?"

"It's late. You fell asleep," he stated.

"Oh." Her stomached growled.

"Hungry?" Brady disentangled himself from around her body and stood.

"A little."

"I'll go make dinner and then we have to talk."

She eyed him sceptically. "Talk? About what?"

Brady took a deep breath and scratched his head. "About a lot of things."

She sat up, concerned. "Did something happen?" 

"We'll talk later."

She nodded, for lack of anything else to do. "Oh...okay. I'm going to have a shower."

"Come down when you're done and we'll eat."

He seemed distant somehow, she couldn't quite place the change.

She got off the bed still trying to get her bearings. She rummaged through some drawers before finding an outfit she liked and then took off into the bathroom.  
----

Brady had grilled Salmon steaks and burned them beyond recognition while he daydreamed. He searched the cupboards for something edible and wrinkled his nose when he discovered their flood supply was not as plentiful as he had thought.

Hearing Chloe behind him, he didn't bother to turn when he spoke."We have a problem."

"What?"

"I burned dinner." He guessed his face was probably red. It was funny how silly and immature he could feel when he was around Chloe, like he was still twenty again.

Chloe sat down heavily on the couch, pulling her damp hair back with an elastic. "That's okay, I'm not that hungry anyway. You have my stomach tied up in knots." 

Brady finally managed to turn in her direction. "Fine, we'll skip dinner. Let's talk about Philip."

"I don't want to talk about Philip."

"Well, that may be the case, but we're going to talk about him." His eyes were hidden behind his dark lashes, making it hard to read him.

She took a deep breath, crossed her arms under her breasts. "Why? Why can't we just pretend there is no Philip and the past ten years have been one long nightmare."

"Because we'd be lying to ourselves. The truth is you chose Philip and here we are." Brady came across the room and crouched down in front of her, dropping his hands on her thighs, an unconscious action. "Now, are you sure there is nothing else that you can tell me about why Philip would have left?"

She snapped to attention, meeting him squarely in the eye. "What do you mean left? You make it seem like he just packed up his things and walked out. He was kidnapped, Brady."

Brady shook his head, pursed his lips. "No, he wasn't." 

"What?" 

He stood then, putting distance between them. "Don't play innocent. He left and you know why."

"Why would I know?" The rain began outside. The tropical storm was in the beginning stages.

"You're really going to make me do this? You stay here?" Brady stalked over to his office and rummaged through his drawers until he found the papers he was looking for. Walking back into the living room, he slammed the papers down onto the coffee table. "Maybe you know something about these."

"What is it?" she asked and then slowly picked them up. Her face paled when she read what they were.

"What does it look like?" His voice betrayed nothing. Not anger. Not hurt. Nothing.

Chloe took a deep breath, threw the papers back on the table as if they burned. "Where did you get this?"

"Come on now, you didn't think we'd go through your things?" Brady sat on the coffee table, his knees just brushing her bare ones. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Tell you what, that I was planning on divorcing my husband!?" She jolted upright, moved away form him and looked out the tiny window that wasn't boarded up wood. The sky was pitch black except for silver streaks of lightening that occasionally swirled about. 

"Yes!"

"It's not that simple."

He came behind her, touching her shoulder. "Then explain it to me."

"I couldn't take it anymore. I needed Philip to be someone he wasn't..." Chloe faced him, his hand still on her shoulder. "I needed him to be you." Her eyes were open, full of hope.

"Why? Why would you want him to be anything like me? I'm the one you walked out on, remember?" He touched her cheek, her soft, peaches and cream skin yielding to his fingers. He stepped back, realizing his actions and again put the space of the room between them.

"I've told you I was scared. You were always who I wanted." There was a long moment of silence. "Brady, the truth is...when I woke up and found him gone, the main thing I felt was...relief." She covered her face with her long delicate fingers and brushed away the shiny tears making her skin not quite matte. "You must think I'm awful."

Brady was silent. From across the room, she could barely see his eyes, but she could feel him watching her. And when the lightning flashed violently through the window behind him, his blue eyes were brought to life and were directed at her. 

"Your silence speaks volumes," she announced, shakily trying to reign in her emotions.

"Does it?" 

"Well, doesn't it?"

"Oh I see, we're playing the pick apart Chloe game, are we? Okay, so let me make sure I'm keeping score right, you just went," he counted on his index finger. "Hmm so I guess that makes it my turn." His voice was light and teasing to start with but quickly turned deep and sexy. "I used to love to play this, in fact I've been playing it since the night you came to me for help, but the problem now is, I'm tired and hungry and so goddamn horny I think I might take you right here on the living room floor," His lips twitched when her mouth dropped open. She looked as if she would speak, but no words came. Her gaze dropped to his jeans and through the dark she strained to see if he was telling the truth. Brady cleared his throat and wiped the smile from his lips. "And so to prevent that, I think you should go to bed." The words rumbled from his chest sending spikes of desire into her belly. "Come on, we've had a long day. In the morning we can talk some more if you want."

"But I'm not-"

"You've been yawning since came down, and that's probably what resulted in our little heart to heart here, so stop lying. Now go on into the bedroom and go to sleep."

"What about you?"

"I'll be fine."

"Are you sure, because the bed's big enough for the tw-"

Brady shook his head, a playful smirk on his lips. "Chloe, did you not just hear what I said?" 

"Going."

"Good."

"There's just-"

"Chloe." He warned.

"Okay, I'll go to bed, but I'm just saying if that couch gets uncomfortable at any point during the night, my offer stands."

"I'll keep that in mind." He laughed.

_______

I'm sorry it's taken me so long to write more. Is anyone still reading? lol


	9. Trust is a fragile thing

  
  


Wearing just a faded pair of blue jeans, Brady watched the storm roll across the ocean. White caps formed on the waves as they turned over and crashed against rocks and the shore. The ringing phone caught his attention and brought him out of his trance.

"Hello?" After a beat. "What, now?" Brady questioned into the receiver. "O-okay."

Taking the stairs two steps at a time, Brady rushed up the stairs and into the room Chloe was staying in. He sat down on the edge of the bed and nudged her shoulder. "Chloe? Chloe!?"

"You changed your mind," she said, coming out of the slips of sleep with a groggy smile.

"No, listen...You're not going to like this."

"What?" she asked alarmed. When he didn't speak, she got frustrated.

"Dammit Brady, what is it?"

His voice was low. "Philip knows you're here. He's on his way."

Chloe sat up, making Brady aware of the silk nightgown she wore. "What-How? How could he possibly know? Why isn't he... -you're not making sense..."

Brady inhaled sharply. "Because I asked Jason to bring him here."

"What? Why?" Chloe smoothed her hands through her hair and shook her head.

"When I said he wasn't kidnapped, I meant it. He's been living in the Swiss Alps. Jason's been tracking him this whole time. He's not bankrupt and he was never on drugs." Brady touched her naked shoulder.

Chloe shook her head. "That doesn't make sense."

"It's the truth." He let out a long breath.

"So why is he coming here then? What are you going to do with him?"

"For starters, he's going to sign those papers and get the hell out of your life for good."

"Brady..." Chloe said, helplessly.

Brady pulled her into his arms, smoothing his fingers through her hair. "Shh. Everything is going to be good from now on."

"I have to tell you something."

"Tell me later," he whispered. 

"I-okay. Brady, can you just hold me, just for a little while. When Philip gets here...things are -well, it won't be the same."

Brady cleared his throat and moved further onto the bed, laying beside her. They were quiet for a long time, just listening to the storm and each other's breathing when Chloe began to giggle to herself.

Brady turned to look at her, thinking she'd cracked under all the pressure from the past few days. "What? Why are you laughing?"

She tried to suppress her smile. "Oh, it's nothing, it's just something that I was remembering. Something from a long time ago."

"Tell me?" he inquired. 

"Do you remember the first time you kissed me?" Chloe had a tendency to be random at the oddest times. Like when your psycho husband plots his own kidnapping and you're about to come face to face with him. 

"Yes," he smiled, trying not to allow the rosy blush to cover his cheeks. "How could I not, you ran to the bathroom and threw up."

"Only because I was so nervous." She spared a shy glace at him. "It felt like I had been waiting for it forever and every time you would be near me, I would get myself all pumped and I guess my nerves just got the better of me."

"I thought I disgusted you." He laughed throatily. "What are you thinking?"

Chloe bit her lip. "I'm thinking if I kissed you now...what would it feel like."

She could feel him shrugging against her. "Maybe you should try it. I haven't made how I feel about you a secret."

"H-how do you feel? I mean, I think I know, but..."

"I love you," he stated, as if it was common knowledge. Finally the cracks through the weather-beaten exterior of his heart broke through as he bared his soul. 

Just hearing that made her feel brave, like everything was going to work out. "I love you, too. I always have, Brady."

"Are you going to kiss me now?"

"Are you flirting with me?"

"If you have to ask-" Chloe caught him off-guard, interrupting him with a full-lipped kiss. She slipped her tongue in his mouth when he opened it to protest. 

He pulled away, breathless. "This is wrong. God, Chloe we shouldn't be doing this. You're still married."

"To a man I don't love, now hush. It feels- oh God, Brady, you feel so good."

The storm raged outside, it sounded like a freight train coming through the bedroom. "Just because it feels good doesn't make it right. Things are going to change...Philip is-"

"Does it matter what's right anymore? Don't stop." 

Brady gently touched her cheek, fascinated by her bruised lips and arousal-dark eyes."Oh honey, even if I wanted to I don't think I could."

Brady rolled on top of Chloe, pressing her into the mattress. It had been way too long, for both of them. 

She lifted her hips and gyrated against his pelvis, pleased to find he was already hard. She moaned against his ear, taking a little nip of his lobe. Her hands moved against him of their own accord, searching all the places she'd wanted to over the years. 

Brady slid his hands to the edge of her nightgown and pulled upward until she lifted her arms and helped him. The garment flew across the room, neither cared where it landed, because his mouth was back on hers and it was warm and wet and a thousand times hotter than fire. 

His hands rested on her stomach for a while, his fingers teasing little circles against her navel. He smiled against the column of her throat when she bucked upward bringing their lower bodies closer. Then his hands were on her breasts and he knew exactly what to do to get her hot. He always knew. 

She rubbed against his rough, denim covered thigh, twitched and aching for something spectacular that she couldn't quite remember but knew she'd gone too long without it. 

Chloe kissed him with an urgency he didn't yet understand. 

She fumbled with his zipper. Over-eager almost, not giving him a chance to change his mind.

He hissed against her neck when he was finally free and her hand found the elastic band of his boxers and pulled them down. She cupped him firmly, the way she remembered he liked. There was no time for teasing. No real time for foreplay either. She was as hot as she was ever going to get and he was no doubt ready, too. She stroked his length with wonton power, drawing a deep groan from the pit of his stomach. 

"Chloe." 

"Please. I can't...I need..."

He wanted to draw it out. To make it last the whole night. To savour every single second. But ten years and a lot of lonely nights was too much for any man to take.

With voracious gratitude she guided him inside her. And it was a million times hotter than their mouths and tongues could ever be. 

Her nails dug into his back, her hips pressed into him and her teeth sank into his neck. It was wild and frantic and a little frightening...how much she needed this...needed him like this. 

From there it was a sultry, fast ride; their bodies twisting and rolling and connecting in ways that seemed impossible. He stared into her eyes, losing himself in the blue yielding pressure of sin. Their wet, sweaty skin make slapping noises above the thunder and rain and their breath came out staccato.

And then it was over and neither one could move for what felt like hours, when in reality was probably minutes. The air smelled of sex and sweat and the ocean. 

There was a heaviness in the room, like neither one of them knew what to do next. Finally, Brady moved and slipped out of her and they both felt the loss instantly. 

Brady scooted to one side of the bed and pulled her against him. There were so many things running through his head, but he couldn't find the words to say any of them. Chloe must have understood because she let out a contented sigh and rubbed his arm reassuringly. It was only then that he allowed himself to close his eyes and believe what had actually happened.

---  


Chloe never thought there would be a day when she would be resting against Brady's chest, touching his skin, like this again. But it was real and it was better than she had hoped for, so it was only natural that something was about to happen to end her happiness. 

  


Brady jackknifed out of sound sleep. gets out from bed and puts on his pants- don't forget Jason is there

Chloe stirred beside him, alarmed. "What? What is it?"

Brady pressed his finger to his lips, quieting her. "Someone's in the house. Stay here and I mean it Chloe. I don't care what you hear, you stay put no matter what. Okay?"

Brady stood and grabbed his jeans, forcing them up still wobbly legs.

"I'll try."

Brady looked at her and shook his head. "No you won't try, you'll do it."

"Wait! Brady, there's something you should know." Chloe hugged the sheets to her and implored him to listen.  
  
"Yeah?" He asked over his shoulder, going into the closet and pulling out a t-shirt from way in the back.

"That's Jason and Philip isn't it?" 

"Probably."

Her eyes were sad. "Brady, don't hurt him."

"Chloe, I can't promise that." Brady couldn't look at her.

Chloe swallowed hard, her voice soft. "Brady, it wasn't his fault."

"What are you talking about? Don't try to defend him now. Stay here, I'll be back soon."

Pulling his shirt over his head, Brady walked back to the bed and kneeled down and laid a gentle kiss on her forehead

Chloe wasn't just going to wait in his bed, smelling sheets that were perfumed with his essence and not do anything. Even as she pulled on her jeans and sweater over naked flesh, she knew Brady would be angered, but there was only one person who could reason with him.

As she crept down the hall, she could hear voices in the living room. She sucked in a breath and started down the steps.

"What were you thinking, Philip? How could you do this to her?"

"He did this for me," Chloe said, poised on the last step. 

All eyes were on her. Jason, dressed in a black leather jacket and leather gloves, barely met her eyes. 

Brady's anger was emitting from him like a beacon, Chloe could feel the room filling with it.

Philip, a little bruised and shaken, cracked a small reassuring smile and shook his head. "Don't," he said. 

Looking into Philip's eyes, she almost saw the boy she had almost loved what seemed so long ago, when they were still young and still so naive. "It's over Philip. We both know it." Her voice was soft with pain making vocal the real sorrow and pity she'd felt for him for so long. 

"I know," he said softly, concealing his eyes from her, ashamed. "I never meant to hurt you. Things got out of control. I got out of control. Could you-do you think some day you will forgive me?"

Chloe stepped off the stair and came closer, her eyes downcast. She couldn't look at Brady, not now. "Philip, stop it. I can't lie to him anymore. I can't do it."

Brady's face flamed with uncertainty and anger. "Could somebody tell me what the hell is going on?"

"Philip and I-"

"We set you up," Philip interrupted.

"What?"

Philip coughed and wiped his bloody lip that had just cracked open again. "This whole thing. The kidnapping... The divorce papers... We set everything up so you'd help out Chloe."

Brady turned to Chloe, his eyes accusatory. The pressure in his stomach was like a volcano, he could feel hot lava bubbling inside, making everything sting. "You lead me on a wild goose chase and all along you pretended Philip had been kidnapped!? How could you let me think that?" Chloe didn't look at him, dared not to speak. Chloe, answer me!" 

A nervous smile separated her lips. "Okay, so I admit, it was the dumbest thing I've ever done, but I don't regret it." Her chin tilted up, her eyes became defiant. "And I'd do it all again, just to spend this much time with you without the tension and the past creeping up on us."

Brady laughed, a cold, heatless laugh that sounded like a cackle. "Do you realize what you've done? Any trust I had in you is gone now. You both played me for an idiot and I was too blind and still too in love to see it for what it was." He ripped his fingers through his already tousled hair and snorted another chilling chuckle. "So this was all some game to entertain yourselves?"

Chloe rushed to his side, but he held her off and she slunk back toward the staircase. "It wasn't a game, Brady. I wanted you back but my pride kept me away for ten years."

Jason remained silent. He looked between the three of them. It was an eternal triangle and a fucked up one at that. It was exactly the reason he stuck to airline stewardesses and super models: no strings attached, hot sex and free swag. 

Philip cleared his throat again. "It's not her fault. It was my idea. I was a coward. I figured if you thought I was a bastard... Listen, most of what Chloe told you probably was true. It was barely a marriage, it was probably over before it even began. Her heart was somewhere else... I wore blinders for a while, but she's yours, Brady. She always has been, it just took me awhile to realize it."

Brady didn't look up when he spoke, couldn't bare to. "You think this makes it better? I can't trust you anymore, Chloe. Do you get that?"

"Brady," Chloe pleaded, trying again to touch him, but he backed away.  
  
"Leave me alone. I can't even look at you right now." Brady rushed out the back door, uncaring that the rain still poured thick on the beach and that it probably wasn't the safest place to be.

Chloe looked between the remaining men, desperate. "Jason," Chloe began, "maybe you should see if he's okay."

Jason shook his head and took a deep breath. "I've seen him like this before. He nearly dislocated my jaw the last time I meddled when it came to you. He needs to be alone. Get your stuff together, there's a plane waiting to take us back to Salem."

"What about Brady?"

There was no emotion to his voice and Chloe knew the situation was bad, very bad. "He'll be okay. Give him a few days. Don't push him, Chloe. It was hard enough for him to lose you the first time."  
  
____

And that folks is what we call a little twist. Did anyone see it coming or did I fool everyone? Muah haha! Sorry, I'm very sleep deprived right now. lol


	10. Starting Over

Thank you all for reading.

______________

Jason had escorted Chloe home while Philip caught a flight back to his new home. Several times Chloe attempted to explain herself to Jason but he didn't want to hear any of it. He told her to save it for Brady and to leave him out of it. Chloe couldn't blame him, really, and it wasn't like he was rude about it. He'd said all of it in a very delicate un-Jason-like manner. 

So there she was at home and miserable and all of her own accord. Brady was never going to forgive her. Hell, she was never going to forgive herself. There was no use mopping around and eating carton after carton of ice cream, so Chloe finally got out of her quilt of guilt and took a shower, dressed and hailed a cab. She was going to explain things to Brady even if it killed her. 

Her hand poised over the door and she knocked quickly enough to not give in to her overactive nerves that told her it was a bad idea. She waited for what felt like forever and then came face to face with Brady. She swallowed hard.

He hadn't shaved probably since that night she revealed the truth and he had dark circles under his eyes. He was only wearing a pair of faded blue jeans with the occasional hole, undone. Chloe unconsciously licked her lips. He looked like an add for sex. 

Brady cleared his throat, but his voice still came out raspy. "What are you doing here?"

"You wouldn't answer the phone." Chloe avoided eye contact.

Brady shrugged and plodded back into the room. "Fine. What do you want?"

"Can I come in?" Her voice sounded very meek, even to her own ears. 

Brady sat down heavy on the couch and placed his head in his hands, stifling a yawn. "Do what you want."

"Brady," Chloe began, "I-I'm sorry for what...I didn't mean for everything to get out of control. Philip and I..." Chloe kneeled in front of him, her eyes misting. "I didn't think everything through. I should have figured that this was a really bad idea, but I couldn't think straight." Chloe caught a tear before it fell down her face and took in a deep breath.

Brady's voice was low when he spoke. Dangerously low. "How'd you come up with this plan? Was it Philip or was it your idea?"

"Both. I wish I could say it was just him, but I'd be lying and I don't want to lie to you anymore. I-I never wanted to lie to you, but I didn't see any other way. I saw you with Jason on the news, you know when you rescued that business man from those kidnappers and the idea just hit me. I knew you'd help and I just thought...I thought maybe it would give us a chance to reconnect and we did, didn't we? I felt it. I meant everything I said, I loved you back when I was too stupid to hold onto it, I loved you when we were apart all those years and I love you now. There isn't much more I can say," she said, emotion coating her voice and making her words sound thick. 

She stared up at Brady waiting for a reaction, but there was none. He kept his head in his hands and the minutes ticked by. For a minute Chloe thought he might have fallen asleep, but dismissed the idea when he scratched his cheek. She finally figured out that he was probably waiting for her to leave so she used the coffee table for leverage and stood. She was halfway to the door before she heard him moving behind her.

Brady was right behind her and she could feel the heat of him against her back. 

"You lied to me," Brady scoffed and shook his head. "You looked me right in the eye and lied to me...and you know what I realized? I don't care."

"Brady, please."

Brady touched her arm and it was like an open flame, tiny sparks danced across her skin. "Let me finish."

"Go ahead," she said solemnly.

Brady messed his hair and expelled a long breath. "I don't care because those few days away with you...they were probably the happiest I've been in ten years. And I can't go back...I can't be lonely all the time, not after this...not after I got to hold you again. I can't do it, Chloe. I can't forget what happened and I won't be able to trust you completely for a while, but I want to make it work. I want it to work more than anything."

"Brady," Chloe whispered, tentatively stepping closer. When he didn't pull away she wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his chest. She let out a contented sigh that he matched.

Brady pulled back and traced her lips with his index finger. She flicked her tongue over it and he let out a hiss of air. In one fluid motion Brady had Chloe in his arms and was carrying her upstairs. 

"Brady?" she questioned, "what..."

"Let's go make a baby," he laughed and kissed her hard, not faltering in the slightest as he walked up the stairs. 

_______

The End


End file.
